


Healing?

by mythomagicallydelicious



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Amnesty, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Gen, Guilt, Implied/Referenced Canonical Character Death, Implied/Referenced Gun Violence, Sylvain, but is later consensual, dubcon merging of minds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:15:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22133143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mythomagicallydelicious/pseuds/mythomagicallydelicious
Summary: Pigeon Wilson was all alone in her head in her cell, until another entity with enormous regret offered to share the burden of getting better between them.
Relationships: Pigeon Wilson & the Quell
Comments: 5
Kudos: 13





	Healing?

Pigeon sees a doorway open up in her cell. Sheriff Owens offered to let her go, but she didn’t feel like she could stand to leave. Didn’t deserve the freedom. She deserved to be behind bars, where she couldn’t hurt anyone. Where she didn’t have to see the reproach she deserved from those who knew him best. From former friends.

It’s shining like that gate that Aubrey went through, on that night. But it has red-tinted light pouring from it instead. She stirs, pulling herself to a sitting position as she studies the opening. There’s a sound like static coming through, crackly and buzzing like insects. 

“H-hello?” she asks. Her voice is raspy. She hasn’t done much talking, lately. She draws the blanket around her shoulders a little tighter as the buzzing from the gate responds in kind, growing louder and then softer as if it gave its own greeting.

She doesn’t like this. It’s too weird, it’s too much. She feels fear whelm inside of her and she looks back, trying to catch sight of the sheriff or a detective or even Dewey. No luck. She glances back at the portal and she stands on shaky legs, staying just out of range of the red light.

“Go away. I don’t want anythin’ to do with this weirdness anymore.” 

The light pulses and shifts, the buzzing growing in volume again. The light goes purple, then blue. A softer blue than the harsh red light from before. A melancholic blue. 

“I won’t say it again. Get outta here, or, or, or I’ll call the sheriff, and he’ll call someone who can take care of ya.” Pigeon’s voice trembles on even the edge of a threat of violence and fresh tears track down her face. She clutches the blanket closer around her and hunches inward, looking away from the light.

The buzzing grows a little more intense, filling her cell around her. But it is shifting as well, forming words that echo around her head.

“ _ Regret, regret, regret. Pain, sadness, hurt. We hurt so many--we hurt so much. Regret.” _

Pigeon chokes on a sob as she glances back up at the glowing doorway before her. She stuffs the hand covered in cloth in her mouth, biting on the fabric to keep from talking back to it. The words buzz and shift and the light from the doorway glows a lower blue-gray color. 

“ _ Amends? Can we make amends? Can we be forgiven? Can we ever deserve not to feel this way? Amends? Forgiveness? Pain, pain, regret, hurt… _ ”

Pigeon shuffles forward, drawn by the questions. 

“Wh-who are you?” She manages around the edge of cloth. “What do ya want with me?”

_ “We want the same thing. We have both done. Unimaginable. Wrongs. We feel wrong. We feel wrong. We feel wrong.” _

Pigeon nods, clenching her eyes tight but unable to deny she feels that way. 

_ “Together we can. Learn how to deserve...to heal.” _

“I can’t stop thi-thinking about his face. Or the sounds of everyone running away from m-my shot. O-or the blood on the ground, ruining his best jacket. H-he once told a story ‘bout getting that jacket from some movie star’s set. He w-was so proud.. Oh god-”

_ “Let us help each other. Help each other. Help us, help us, help us--” _

Pigeon shuffles forward, dropping the blanket, letting the light wreath around her. It is strangely hot and cold at the same time. She feels the pull of it take her through the doorway, and into an intense, bright light. Gravity doesn’t exist as she floats, the buzzing unbearable now as it fills the air around her. She screams, terrified, not understanding what she’d done.

There’s a tug and a change in direction and she’s rushing through the air, wind catching her tangled hair and pushing it in her face as she seems to be aimed straight to the central mass of this space. The light is rushing towards her faster, faster, faster--

And then she wakes up. There’s a slight buzz in her ears, but it’s fuzzy, like a radio station coming in just slightly too far away from the tower. Thoughts and memories are running through her mind that she doesn’t--they don’t--she doesn’t remember doing them. Faces sweep through too fast to recognize, creatures and countryside and corruption erupting in her mind. 

“What? What’s happenin’?” she cries out, sitting up abruptly and hands cradling her head. “What’s wrong with my voice? Where am I?”

There’s a hum coming from inside her mind and she feels her mouth moving to answer her own question.

_ “We have merged in order to help each other. Stepping through our gateway allowed you to open your mind to us. To help each other. To heal, Pigeon Wilson.” _

Pigeon scrambled backwards, horrified. “You did what? You’re inside of me? That- that’s wrong!”

Pigeon felt her head cock to one side. 

_ “Oh, we--this has disturbed you. Do you not wish to heal with us?” _

Pigeon looks down to the ground, and notices her hands. They’re not quite her old hands anymore. She glances around, desperately for a mirror or a puddle or anything reflective. She shakily gets to her feet and picks a direction, running. Her steps are uneven and her breaths are coming too fast, but she needs to know.

She finds a still pond and leans over the edge, looking at herself.

She’s not quite...who she used to be.

“What did you do? Who am I?” she asks, confused and feeling violated. Her body once again takes control of her voice to answer.

“ _ You are Pigeon Wilson. When our consciousness merged with your own, it altered parts of your appearance. That is why you were unconscious for several hours, as your body became accustomed to our presence. We are the Quell, within you, to learn to heal. To experience healing through one experience, and apply it to our own. We have similar goals.” _

“You should have asked first--this is wrong!” 

The voice was silent for a long time while Pigeon rocked back on her heels, trying to think about what this meant.

“Where am I, right now?” she asks softly. “Didja take me through that portal, into Sylvain? Am I stuck over here?”

_ “Yes. That is where we brought you, to us. We are...sorry, Pigeon. We thought we could heal together. Together. But we have. Only caused more suffering.” _

Pigeon sat by the water, nodding. The gentle hum in her ears made it somewhat difficult to think, but as she stared at the land around her, she found it wasn’t so bad a feeling, not being able to think clearly. For the first time in months, her mind hasn’t been consumed with what she--

_ “Pigeon, Pigeon, Pigeon, Pigeon Wilson. You are in Sylvain. Not at the gate. You are empty handed.” _

The hum grew louder in response to her thoughts spiraling, as she had been on the verge of feeling the pain of acknowledging what she’d done to another human being. The humming presence of voices from the Quell drowned it out. Brought her back.

“You wanna… help me?” she asks, hesitant. “Why? I don’t deserve anything special, ‘cept my cell.” She twirls a bit of her hair around a finger, hunching over knees pulled to her chest.

_ “Help each other. We can be alone, together, and learn how to start to heal. We can leave, and send you home, if that is what you desire. We… apologize. We thought you were of our mind when we joined you. It was rash.” _

“I understand rash actions better than you think,” Pigeon says, laughing without humor. She twirls the hair tighter, feeling it pull at her scalp as she thinks. The soothing hum is quiet as she stares at the middle distance, through trees and bushes and the wildlife of this other world.

“Maybe. Maybe this won’t be so bad, Quell. We can help each other. We’re both bad, so it cancels out, right? It’s not me taking pity or taking up a better person’s time with what I did.”

_ “Help each other.” _

“Yeah. I agree. Let’s  **_help each other._ ** ”

Pigeon felt their voices merge as they said the last part together. She could get used to that. She could get used to all of this, if it meant she could take a break from who she was before, and what people expected of her. And at least now she wasn’t taking up anyone else’s valuable space or attention.

“Where to first?” she asks, standing, dusting off her knees. She sways, leaning on a tree for support.

_ “Shelter, and food, and sleep. We will take care of each other. _ ” Pigeon feels an instinctual pull in one direction, and she follows it, finding a lean-to that looks long abandoned after about ten minutes of walking. It’ll do the job well for a few nights as she settles in, working out the kinks of the new roommate inside her head.

**_“Healing._ ** _ I hope _ **_.”_ ** __

A few weeks later, she finds herself outside a bivouac, encountering a face she knew in passing and knew in conspiracy circles with Kirby, but never personally. An expert in nature and weird. And hopefully the help they needed. She did most of the talking, dodging the name question, until she felt the hum grow louder and let the Quell speak for them instead.

When Thacker smiled at them, the first smile she could acknowledge since the accident, Pigeon felt that little flicker of hope start to blossom. She wasn’t sure if it was her or the Quell, but hoping again felt… good. So did the small smile she gave in return to the old man.

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this written pretty much since the end of Amnesty, but I felt too embarrassed to post it. After some time I found it again and said "you know what? I like this." So here it is. Hope you like it too!! Comments are super appreciated, I think it's the first thing I'm posting that isn't taz balance/johnchurch centric lol. 
> 
> Also immediately after listening to the epilogue it was my immediate headcanon that Pigeon merged with the Quell and became the person Thacker was talking to. Even if it doesn't strictly make sense, it seemed like an open-ended and more answered ending than the question mark the finale had for her, in my books.
> 
> Thanks for reading! As always, let me know if I missed or forgot a tag. 
> 
> <3


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